Getting Even (16 page)

“Halfway there,” she said, when they reached the Warren Street subway station.

He swung her arm gleefully. “Not far now!” He gazed down at her, then observed, voice slurred, “I do love you, you know.”

“Do you?” She glanced up at him. “
Really?
”

“Of course! You're my best girlfriend, ever!”

She smiled. She could hardly be cross with him like this. But patience was not one of her virtues; she didn't want to sit with her doubts longer than she had to. Plus several pints of Stella might mean he hadn't the wherewithal to lie.

“So you do consider me your girlfriend, then?”

“Yes! Of course!”

They crossed with the light and headed up Hampstead Road.

Orianna let go of his hand. “Dan, can I ask you something?”

“Whatever you like.”

“Did you spend the night with Lara after the Image Focus Christmas party?”

“Oh, um…” He frowned. “I think I did.” He looked at her again, his expression guilty. “Is that
very
bad of me?”

She sighed. “I s'pose not.”

“I wasn't going out with you then, was I?” He nodded, sure of this. “I didn't start seeing you till after that.”

“No…”

“And I've never had anything to do with her since, I promise.” He leaned in and kissed Orianna's cheek. She could feel a touch of saliva; damp, warm, reassuring. “You're
much
lovelier than Lara!”

This went some way to consoling her. “But Dan, it was only the
night
before!”

“The night before what?”

“The Green party, when you first went out with me!”

“Really?” He stopped by the curbside, brow furrowed, struggling to recollect. “Was it that soon?” He glanced at her sideways, biting his lip. “I think you might be right.”

“That's only twenty-four hours!”

“Mm.” Sheepish.

Tears pricked behind Orianna's eyes. “I thought I was more special to you than that.”

“You
are
special.”

“It makes me feel like some sort of tart!” Orianna knew if anyone was a tart Dan was, but she felt it nonetheless. “As if I'm one of hundreds of women”—then she remembered Ursula's remark—“people,
men
, I don't know, you're just shagging.”

But this seemed too much for Dan to process. He stood swaying, appearing to try and sober himself up, fast.

Orianna struggled not to cry. “I hate feeling I'm one of a string of conquests—that you leaped straight from her bed into mine.” She voiced a particularly distressing fear. “You did have a bath between, didn't you?” Then the tears started to fall.

Dan stomped his foot. “Of
course
I had a bath!”

Orianna gulped back her upset. “You did?”

“Well, a shower, at any rate. I always have a shower. Every morning. You know that. Look…” He stopped, turned to her, held her gaze, and said firmly, “You must appreciate the situation. I did have a fling with Lara and I'm not going to hide that from you—you've always known that was the case.”

“Yes.” Orianna's voice was small.

“But that was all it was: a fling. I never was that into her. She's too young for me. And let's face it, she's nowhere near as bright as you.”

“She's thick!”

“Well, I'm not sure about that.”

“She
is
!”

“OK, OK, if you say, she's stupid. Dumb—”

“—blond,” quipped Orianna, and laughed through her weeping.

He took her face in his hands and wiped her damp cheeks. “Listen. I'm a bit of an idiot, sometimes, but you have to believe I really can't remember much about that night with Lara; it was months ago, it wasn't particularly important to me. It only happened that evening because it had once before.”

“But you must have invited her,” Orianna pointed out. “If you went with her to the Image Focus party.”

“I seem to recall she saw the invitation on my desk and asked me if she could come. I could hardly say no, could I?”

“I guess not…”

“So we went and one thing led to another. But after that first night with you, I never had anything to do with Lara again. I promise.”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.” They resumed walking; Dan took her hand, seemingly sobered by the conversation.

Orianna remained uncomfortable about one detail. “Did you ever finish it, though? I mean, tell her it was over?”

He paused. “I thought it would be unnecessarily cruel—not to mention presumptuous—to sit her down and say I didn't want it to happen again. After all, it wasn't as if Lara and I were going out or anything—we only slept together a couple of times.” He examined Orianna's face to check she understood him. “Honey, I'm sorry; maybe that was a bit cowardly, perhaps I should have told you both. But you wanted us to keep things about the two of us quiet; I didn't want to hurt Lara, or you, come to that. I thought you didn't have to know every tiny detail of the run-up to our going out; and she didn't have to know I'd rather have a proper relationship with you than have something casual with her.”

“Oh. I see.” That did make sense; in a way it was flattering.

By now they were at the front door of Dan's building on Mornington Terrace. He reached into his jacket pocket for his key as the porch light came on automatically. Slowly they climbed the stairs in leaden rhythm. Once inside his large studio, Orianna kicked off her shoes and threw down her bag on the sofa.

“I'm exhausted!” Dan made a beeline for the bed. He fell immediately onto the duvet flat on his back, clothes and all. Orianna followed him and he pulled her down on top of him, their bodies entwined.

One final concern, then Orianna could undress and go to sleep. She lifted her face up from his and said, “So you're not gay, then?”

“Gay?” Dan hooted. “Now you're being daft. What on earth gave you that idea?”

“Something someone said at work.” Orianna was too exhausted for a second confrontation.

“I've never heard of anything so ridiculous.”

“Really?”

“Sweetheart.” Dan reached for her hand and put it on his crotch. “What do you think?”

There, indeed, was proof of his desire for her, and she wanted to believe him with all her heart. But when she woke the next day, a small cloud of worry still remained.

 

17. Make all the money thou canst

As Neil worked his final days, Orianna decided to ignore her worries about Dan's promiscuity, in order to focus on gleaning as much as possible from her boss. Despite his waning interest, it was unusual to have one's predecessor on hand, and she was determined to turn this to her advantage. She spent days with him in his glass-walled office, the door closed so they could oversee the department while chatting in private.

She encouraged him to offload information about their clients, debrief her on unfamiliar projects, steer her on new business, give her guidance on handling colleagues she'd not hitherto worked with closely, and impart as much as he could about the sequestered machinations of the board. Discreetly, she lured him into revealing more about the agency's finances. These in particular were an eye-opener: the balance sheets were in a worse state than Orianna had realized.

“It's an expensive business, running an agency,” said Neil. “Best ask Russell if you want a thorough explanation.”

There were other shocks too. “I didn't realize Ivy earned so much!”

“Oh yes.” Neil nodded.

“Has she been at this salary for long?”

“I can't recall.” Orianna felt he could remember all too well.

But I work harder than Ivy, she thought.
I'm
the one they chose to promote. I might be at a higher salary now, but why on earth was she paid more than me before?

“That's why we can't afford to hire someone senior to work with her,” Neil pointed out. “We haven't got the money. Did you speak to Cassie, by the way?”

“Yes. She's starting next Monday.”

“She'll be good, I'm sure.”

“A real asset,” agreed Orianna. In her years as group head at Green, she'd interviewed several art directors, but rarely one as gifted or charming as Cassie. In fact, Orianna had been so convinced of her talent and that others would take to her as swiftly as she had, that she'd offered Cassie the job the very next day.

“It's one of my regrets I won't see her in action,” said Neil.

“I'm looking forward to teaming her up with Ivy, seeing what they come up with as a duo.” Orianna recollected the early days when the two of them had first been put together—Ivy had taught her so much. “Ivy's so good at bringing new people on. Though you've reminded me, I
must
have a chat with her about Cassie.”

“You've not told her yet?”

“Er … no.” Orianna felt guilty she'd not done this before, but she'd been awfully busy, and by the time she'd thought of it again, Cassie had accepted the job. “I'm sure Ivy will like Cassie too.”

“How could she not? Nonetheless, you're planning on them working together?”

Orianna nodded. “Although I'll still team up with Ivy as well.”

“I see.”

She reassured herself. “Ivy and I have always got along with the same people in the past.”

“Mm,” said Neil, but Orianna detected concern.

She thought for a moment. It was Thursday already, no time like the present. She rose to her feet. “I'll have a word with her now. I can shift things from my old desk while I'm at it.” Neil had acquired a stack of empty boxes, ready to pack his personal possessions. She picked up a couple. “Can I borrow these to put my books in while I move them around here?”

“Sure. Take the trolley, too.”

“Good thinking.” Orianna grabbed it and wheeled it through the door. “Back soon.”

But when she reached her desk, Ivy wasn't around. She decided to start packing regardless. These days she was much in demand and couldn't hang about.

*   *   *

Ivy hurried to the office, panting. It was a lot to accomplish, to and from Knightsbridge in a lunch hour—she'd actually been gone far longer. As she walked into the creative department and slowed to a more measured pace, she could see Orianna's head bobbing over their partition wall.

Bugger, thought Ivy, sneaking her Harvey Nichols shopping bag deep into the jackets on the communal coat stand. I hope she hasn't noticed I've been out for ages. She tiptoed around to the other side of the department and headed to her desk from a different direction so it wouldn't appear she'd just come in the main door. With luck Orianna would assume she'd been in a meeting.

Several boxes were piled on Orianna's desk, filled with books, files, and magazines, and Orianna was on all fours under the table. Judging from the mesh of cables nearby, she was struggling to unplug her computer.

Ah, so she's moving to her new office, Ivy observed.

“Hi,” she said breezily, slipping past to take her seat by the window.

She felt a lurch of sadness at the thought that she and Orianna would no longer be sitting together. They'd not been more than four feet from each other in over a decade. But then a rush of envy sent sensitivity flying.

It's not fair, she fumed, Orianna having all that room, when I'm still stuck here.
And
she's taking our reference materials. Typography manuals, Pantone guides, creative handbooks—I use them too! And I'm not even sure those magazines are hers.

Presently Orianna peered out from beneath the desk, her face dusty and sweaty. “Do me a favor? Save whatever it is you're writing, and turn off your machine so I can unplug everything?”

Ivy tried to think why she couldn't accommodate this request, but failed. “OK.” She shut down her PC but didn't offer to get down and help. “I'll have all this space to myself,” she said, biting back irritation.

At that moment Orianna surfaced. She stood and faced Ivy. “Actually, I did want to talk to you about that. There's someone starting soon and I was thinking you might like to have her sit here.”

“Oh?”

“An art director.”

Ivy started. I hope to God she's not referring to that nauseating blonde I met in reception, she thought.

“She's called Cassie,” Orianna went on. “She's … er … a bit younger than us, but she's ever so good.”

If Orianna sounded unsure, Ivy certainly wasn't going to make it any easier. She was silent, checking her nails as she assessed the evidence.

I'm not stupid, she thought. Orianna won't just be planning on Cassie
sitting
opposite. I bet she's intending that the two of us
work
together.

“In fact…” Orianna said tentatively, “I was going to suggest that you teamed up with her from time to time.”

Ha!

“I was hoping you might teach her a thing or two—you're so good, so experienced.”

Stop trying to butter me up, thought Ivy. What on earth will I get out of it? What can some tart who's just got off the plane from Oz show
me
?

The harder she considered it all, the more incensed she grew. This is just typical of the new, power-crazed Orianna that she's hired Cassie without consulting me, she ruminated. Teaming me with someone half my age! She bit back her anger, but couldn't resist saying, “You didn't think of introducing her to me, then?” as she continued examining her cuticles. She glanced up to check: Orianna was blushing. Good.

“You can meet her, if you'd like.”

“But unless I misunderstand, you've hired her anyway?”

“Um. I, er … yes, I have. She's very nice.”

“Not much point in my meeting her now though, is there?”